A few years ago I spent the summer alone at Lake Winola and decided to finally read, along with several volumes of short fiction, Haggard’s She, Holmes’ Elsie Venner and Hawthorne’s The Marble Faun. I’m not fond of novels, especially fat ones, not fond at all, but I make exceptions (Moby Dick is one of my favorite books). I read through both She and Venner (particularly enjoyed the Holmes book though an intelligent, tastefully abridged version done with loving care might not be the worst idea in the world), but lost all momentum when I hit Hawthorne...partly because the pain in my leg had grown pretty severe and I found concentrating difficult. I had saved it for last because I felt it might well be the book I would enjoy the most. Oh, well, I saved it for another summer.
Some day…some summer…

Now the world knows my shame.

BTW, Elsie Venner would make a great horror film. I have no idea if it was ever filmed.

Moby Dick, Animal Farm, & The Art of War. I've been trying to get through Moby Dick since I was a kid and I just don't seem to have the patience to ever finish.

Everyone gets a pass on Moby Dick. It's the only novel I ever had this reaction to: when I first read it I absolutely hated it, thought it was stupid; then about a month later I was like "it's alright"; then about a few months later I was like "you know what, it's pretty good," and then about a year later I was like "This is the best novel ever written." No other work has ever had that kind of sleeper effect.

I haven't yet read The Prettiest Girl in Class, despite being given a copy recently. I fear it more than the honest-to-goodness Necronomicon. Purely on psychological grounds, you understand. The effects of the latter, I'm sure, I could laugh off. The former, well, I'm not so sure.

Markitty S.

"You have no idea how much nastier I'd be if I were not a Catholic. Without supernatural aid I would hardly be a human being." Evelyn Waugh

Moby Dick, Animal Farm, & The Art of War. I've been trying to get through Moby Dick since I was a kid and I just don't seem to have the patience to ever finish.

Everyone gets a pass on Moby Dick. It's the only novel I ever had this reaction to: when I first read it I absolutely hated it, thought it was stupid; then about a month later I was like "it's alright"; then about a few months later I was like "you know what, it's pretty good," and then about a year later I was like "This is the best novel ever written." No other work has ever had that kind of sleeper effect.

I got 3/4s of the way through once and thought: an end to this suffering!

"Bartleby", on the other hand, I must have re-read five or six times with infinite pleasure.

Mark S.

"You have no idea how much nastier I'd be if I were not a Catholic. Without supernatural aid I would hardly be a human being." Evelyn Waugh

I haven't yet read The Prettiest Girl in Class, despite being given a copy recently. I fear it more than the honest-to-goodness Necronomicon. Purely on psychological grounds, you understand. The effects of the latter, I'm sure, I could laugh off. The former, well, I'm not so sure.

Due to the tragic events of recent weeks, I'm now painfully ashamed I haven't read one of Michael Shea's books. I've read "The Autopsy", "Fat Face" and a couple others in diverse anthologies, but that doesn't quite count, now, does it.